The fire that stands before me

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

The fire that stands before me, seems to have no end, it consumes the building it once came from and those around it.

The fire that stands before me, seems to have no end, it consumes the building it once came from and those around it.

The build-up of this heat was immense, I could feel the sweat running down my head, it was constant making my shirt collar wet, making it rub against my neck, I could feel the hard floor below me, the cracks were big and small, you could tell it hadn’t rained because it looked like the floor was going to separate, crumbling till I fell through it, I could fill the heat, quickly work its way to my legs making my trousers stick to my legs.

I could see the colossal flames in front of me, the ash that came from the flame also came from the objects that have been consumed by the fire. I saw blacked out windows where the temperature was outrageous, devastating and spiteful.  I saw a mangled up car next to the building that was consumed by flames it looked rusted and burnt as if it had been in the sun for a long time the flames had stripped the paint off the body of the car.

There wasn’t much noise, very quiet, very lonely, but the noise that could be heard was the roaring sound of a fire it was brewing up a devastating path of destruction, nothing would be left when it is over, I could hear the shutters snapping shut, the sound of a cow bell ringing as the wind vibrates against the metal structure of the bell. I could hear the sound of the fire whip lashing but it was to quiet, you could only just hear it over the strong sound of the fire sirens.

I could smell petrol but not a lot. There was a vivid smell that filled the atmosphere. It smelt horrendous fire and that’s why it smelt funny, I could smell diesel and old car fumes, it was intoxicating but I could manage, I could breathe, there was a slight smell of burning flesh you could smell the burning flames as it heated the floor with extreme power.

I could taste the ash on the tip of my tongue; the fumes worked its way to the back of my throat. I could taste my saliva boiling and drying its self-up inside my mouth, I could feel and taste the ash on the tip of my tongue; it makes you regurgitate everything you have just eaten. I could taste carbon on my tongue perhaps its where there was a fire, there still is that after taste, but the taste of the carbon makes you think of that first BBQ you have ever tried cooking yourself it never turns out just right but you feel good because you know that even know it is burnt you can still eat and that effort wasn’t done for nothing… just add ketchup and its fine, but the thought of food makes me ill.

I could feel the vibrations of the emergency vehicles shimmer through the ground, the force of it was unrealistic, it was like a roller coaster, it was enough to rip out a house, and it was unbelievable. The fire that stood before me engolfed everything i saw, I could feel the immense heat against my skin, I was sweating profusely  and no matter what I did or where I stood I could still feels the immense heat and i began to feel my skin boil and peel, but I knew there was no escape and allowed the fire to take me to my firey grave.


Submitted: September 30, 2015

© Copyright 2022 Frosties169. All rights reserved.

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